


Symbiosis

by Poofy_Kakapo



Series: consentacle Viktuuri [3]
Category: Venom (Movie 2018), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Consentacles, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Prostate Milking, Sharing a Body, Smut, Sounding, Symbiote - Freeform, Symbiote Sex (Marvel), Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Urethral Play, Yuuri is a symbiote, so much consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poofy_Kakapo/pseuds/Poofy_Kakapo
Summary: "We're in public, Yuuri." It was a low growl, his hand tightening on his sports bag as he continued walking, wary of Yuuri's presence so close to his genitals. Something rippled across his neck, and in the blink of an eye, a part of Yuuri was draped over Viktor's neck like a luxurious deep-black scarf. His cock twitched.You like it, Vitya. We both know you do.Viktor whimpered as Yuuri breached his rim, adjusting his coat to cover him better. Yuuri knew him too well; of course he liked it. As Chris once so eloquently put it, he had an exhibitionist streak a mile long. He continued walking as Yuuri's amusement echoed in his chest, the thin, tendril-like tentacles burrowing deeper inside him. Yuuri moved and weaved around his cock and balls, squeezing them lightly, and Viktor hurried his pace, knowing that this wouldn't end well. He was still too far from his apartment.Viktor's breathing turned shallow as his blush spread, Yuuri nibbling at his throat, his cock, his balls, flooding him with a deep sense of want.--symbrock but victuuri





	Symbiosis

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello and welcome to the third installment of this series, where We Give Viktor What He Deserves (TM)
> 
> Featuring symbiote Yuuri and lonely skater Viktor, and some interesting methods of sounding.
> 
> And if you want to know what happens to alien!Yuuri and Vitya on the Aria, that setting will be continued and revisited later.

_Eros: an unlikely mystery to the rescue of Piter citizens._

_Yesterday evening local vigilante Eros has been seen protecting customers and workers of the Hermitage alike, standing firm against armed thugs, who are believed to be one of the many underlings of the bratva. It was said_ _read more..._

 

Viktor smiled in satisfaction as he scrolled through the post, scratching Makkachin on the head. Yuuri's own amusement curled through him in waves, settling deep in his gut. "They aren't wrong, love."

 

**_They give the people too little credit, though. Miss Dobreskaya orchestrated their escape, not us._ **

"Maybe, yes. But we protected them from Boris and his men." Viktor mused, closing his phone and putting it on his bedside drawer, giving Makkachin one last scratch. Yuuri's amusement still pooled into Viktor, but now it was joined by warmth and a surge of love so strong that it blanketed the Russian entirely, and left him feeling cozy and drowsy. His eyes drooped. "Thank you, love."

 

The amusement turned soft, calmer and much more real. **_Always._** Tendrils of inky darkness formed out of Viktor's body, one closing the nightlamp and another pulling the duvet over the Russian, before they also petted the dog. Makka wagged her tail lazily, scooting closer to her owners again after Viktor was safely cocooned. **_You have practice tomorrow, Vitya,_** Yuuri nudged his thoughts, **_so sleep now._** He sent impressions of beds and feather-soft mattresses, of sheep and fields of green pasture, and Viktor felt their shared affection blooming.

 

"G'night, Makka, Yuuri -- you do know that counting sheep is a myth, yes?"

 

**_Oh, shush, you._ **

 

* * *

 

Viktor had found the symbiote in Sochi, shortly after his fifth Grand Prix win, when he'd ditched the banquet and went wandering the streets, lethargy and something much darker clouding his good mood. He had been at an all-time low that day, and were it not for the symbiote stumbling into his life, he worried that he'd have done something stupid.

 

Viktor had heard a suspicious sound while wandering along the beach, and a small brown poodle had run into him headfirst, looking frightened and malnourished. Viktor, always ready to help a dog, double so if it was a poodle, had offered his hand for the toy to scent, but then the sound from before repeated -- an alarmingly guttural and animalistic shriek -- and the poodle doubled over itself, collapsing. He'd barely had a second's glimpse of the _thing_ that had been after the small dog, because he'd crouched down and put a hand on the little head on autopilot, and his world had gone dark for a split-second.

 

In the next, the thing that had tried to kill the poodle was lying in a heap of its own blood, and Viktor stood next to it, shell-shocked.

 

**_I'm sorry,_ **a voice inside his mind said. _**It was the only way. Riot would have killed us otherwise.**_

 

Viktor stared down at the dead thing and at the unconscious dog at his feet, bile rising in his throat. The voice reappeared. **_Don't panic, please don't panic!_** It sounded pretty panick-y itself, though, so Viktor grabbed the still body of the poodle and made a mad dash for it, putting a beach and two blocks between himself and the thing, slamming the door to his hotel-room shut.

 

Then the voice in his head talked again. **_I'm Yuuri, the dog is Vicchan. I'm so sorry you had to witness that._**

 

Yuuri sounded truly apologetic, but Viktor wasn't ready yet to talk to a voice inside his head. His hand was petting the small poodle absentmindedly, shaking ever-so-slightly.

 

_**I can show myself, if it would be easier for you?** _

 

Viktor startled. "You- you can read my mind?"

The alien sensation of a shrug under his skin made itself known, and then something black and inky separated from his hand petting Vicchan, somehow gaining in mass and size until something vaguely resembling a person knelt in front of Viktor on the floor, their hands still connected through the goo… ink… tendrils.

 

Viktor stared at Yuuri, fingers tightening into fur; it wasn't Makka, but close enough right now for him.

 

_**"I'm very sorry, Viktor."**_ Yuuri looked almost sheepish, inasmuch a face made up of goo and darkness could look sheepish: he was black all over, hues of red and blue and (quite a lot of) grey sometimes flashing through, tendrils constantly floating down from his body, some looking like slicked-back hair. A part of his face was a lighter dark from the rest, with white slanted ovals where his eyes were. There was a section made up of what seemed to be hardened crystals, creeping up his side and around his torso like a belt. Viktor swallowed. "What… happened, outside?"

 

**_"The creature that followed after us was the same as myself, identifying as Riot."_** Yuuri scowled. **_"He promised our people a new planet and freedom like we've never had, but as it turned out, the atmosphere of Earth is deadly to us. My cousins and nephews and nieces perished, and only Riot and my oldest sister, Mari, remained. She took me and hid us away, but Riot found us again. Mari went on to kill him, but as you saw, he wasn't as dead as we thought."_**

 

Viktor nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss, then." Yuuri shrugged, his body rippling before it readjusted itself, a part of him now looking as if a half-skirt was covering him. **_"Thank you. I found Vicchan -- he's a good dog -- and we stuck together."_** The alien smiled softly. **_"He is named after you, Viktor Nikiforov, because his previous owner liked the sport. We came to watch the competition somehow."_**

 

The skater was taken aback. "I- the dog wanted to see me skate?" A wobbly smile formed. "The dog is a fan?"

 

Yuuri grinned. **_"Yes. It was impressive; the most beautiful thing I've ever seen --  we don't have anything like it back on Klyntar. My planet."_**

 

Viktor nodded along, feeling much calmer than earlier, Yuuri's grin infectuos and _wait a minute._

 

Yuuri perked up as Viktor blinked again. "You said the atmosphere is deadly for you -- how are you alive?"

 

**_"You caught me."_** He smiled again. **_"My species survives by taking on a host and cohabiting their body. In my case, that would have been Vicchan there,"_** their hands tightened on the dog. **_"Or you, when Riot found us. Again, I'm sorry you had to see that, but at least he's gone for good now."_**

 

"So you're like a, a parasite of sort?"

 

Yuuri's mien darkened. **_"Please don't call me that. A symbiote, if you will, but not a parasite. I'm not in the habit of causing my hosts pain for pain's sake."_**

 

Viktor nodded, muttering a quiet _sorry,_ returning his attention to the small toy poodle again. _That would explain the mind reading earlier._ He frowned. "He won't have much longer, will he?"

 

The black mass of the surprisingly friendly symbiote shrunk in on itself, voice growing small. **_"N-no, he won't."_**

 

"Which means that you won't have a host anymore."

 

**_"Yes. I had not planned on looking for a new one after Vicchan, as long as Riot had been dealt with. I've grown fond of Earth and wouldn't want any more of my species to cause trouble."_** Yuuri looked uncomfortable, fingers tightening around the dog again. **_"He is a great dog, and was an adequate host."_**

 

Viktor nodded, was already opening his mouth to say something, when the doorknob turned. Yuuri froze and turned into a mass of tendrils, disappearing back into Viktor's hand. Viktor could feel him _inside_ , somehow, expanding below his ribcage and staying as still as possible, a ball of lead in his stomach.

 

Yakov entered, ready to no doubt reprimand Viktor about ditching the banquet, when he'd taken notice of the skater's expression. His frown furrowed into real concern as his eyes landed on the small form of Vicchan in his hands, and the coach entered the room. "What is going on, Vitya?"

 

Viktor blinked back tears that didn't feel like his own, smoothing down the fur on the toy poodle's head. "His name is Vicchan," he croaked, "and he is a fan."

 

Yakov didn't say anything, but he silently sat down next to the grieving Viktor and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Makkachin isn't old enough yet to kick the bucket, you foolish boy."

 

The next time Yuuri made himself noticeable was after they'd driven small Vicchan to a vet and Yakov had left for his own room, leaving Viktor laying on his bed with his hair splayed around him like a halo. As soon as the hotel door had closed, a mass rose from his chest, turning into a blob with the vague shape of Yuuri's head. Viktor blinked at him and groaned, waving a hand in Yuuri's direction. "Please look like a body when I'm talking to you."

 

The Yuuri-blob nodded, his mass expanding again, until the symbiote was seated at the edge of the bed, their legs brushing in a very deliberate connection. **_"Thank you for looking after Vicchan."_** He murmured. Viktor nodded. They stayed silent for another handful of minutes, before Viktor spoke, having extensively thought about it. "How about I become your host, hm? We worked pretty well together."

 

(It was the most emotions Viktor has felt in a while, to tell the truth. Even if it had been Yuuri's overflowing grief.)

 

Yuuri's eyes widened as his languid movement froze. **_"Are you sure?"_**

 

The skater shrugged. "Why not?"

 

And that was that.

 

* * *

 

They had entered a strange state of cohabitation where Yuuri mostly left Viktor to his own devices, only exploring his new host's body in the evenings when they came back from practice. Viktor knew the symbiote tried not to bother him too much, so he also stayed silent, glad that he had someone to come home to other than Makkachin.

 

His poor dog had been confused at first, but grew used to the occasional black tendril sneaking out to pet her, and smiled enthusiastically whenever Yuuri's head appeared to coo at her.

 

And the weeks passed like that, Nationals coming up, and Europeans coming up. Viktor and Yuuri grew used to one another, enjoying their shared company for its simplicity, smiling and laughing and teasing each other. Christophe had greeted him at Europeans with a smile, noting how happy Viktor seemed. The Russian shrugged, bashfulness from Yuuri creeping into his own actions, smiling softly.

 

"One day, I'll tell you what happend."

Christophe had laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

They were walking home from the rink, Mila next to them and chatting away, when Viktor felt it. Something was sliding over his skin, pinching at his nipples, and his breath shuddered. Mila looked over. "Are you all right, Vitya?"

 

Viktor nodded, red creeping up his neck at the same time as Yuuri slid down his body, skirting dangerously close to his cock. "Yes, sorry. I remembered something, is all." He forced a smile. "What happened to Vasil?"

 

She smiled, continuing.

 

_Do you want to kill me, love?_ It was a snarky thought, and Yuuri knew it. Instead of answering he slithered further down, past his cock and balls, coming to a halt at his rim. Mila said something or the other, Viktor didn't quite get what, and then she waved at him and disappeared behind a gate, leaving Viktor at the mercy of his symbiote.

 

"We're in public, Yuuri." It was a low growl, his hand tightening on his sports bag as he continued walking, wary of Yuuri's presence so close to his genitals. Something rippled across his neck, and in the blink of an eye, a part of Yuuri was draped over Viktor's neck like a luxurious deep-black scarf. His cock twitched.

 

**_You like it, Vitya. We both know you do._ **

 

Viktor whimpered as Yuuri breached his rim, adjusting his coat to cover him better. Yuuri knew him too well; of course he liked it. As Chris once so eloquently put it, he had an exhibitionist streak a mile long. He continued walking as Yuuri's amusement echoed in his chest, the thin, tendril-like tentacles burrowing deeper inside him. Yuuri moved and weaved around his cock and balls, squeezing them lightly, and Viktor hurried his pace, knowing that this wouldn't end well. He was still _too far_ from his apartment.

 

Viktor's breathing turned shallow as his blush spread, Yuuri nibbling at his throat, his cock, his balls, flooding him with a deep sense of _want._

 

**_Ah, but this isn't enough for you, is it, Vitya?_ **

 

"Wha-"

 

Yuuri expanded inside him, his mass suddenly stretching Viktor's ass, his gait stumbling at the unexpected move. Viktor caught himself, barely, feeling all of his blood rush into his cock. Yuuri squeezed it fondly, amusement radiating through them. Viktor whimpered as some passersby glanced at him oddly. He resumed walking, muttering under his breath. "For an alien who didn't know about the concept of sex you sure do love it."

 

Yuuri nibbled at his throat again. **_No. I love your reactions and the emotional rush you experience. I love how you blush, or how you smile, or how you always want to make sure to include me as much as possible in everything, or how we cuddle with Makka._**

 

Viktor smiled.

 

**_And I love seeing you this worked up, Vitya. It's a long way home._ **

 

He whimpered as Yuuri pinched his nipples again.

 

* * *

 

They didn't make it home, in the end. Viktor could feel Yuuri expand inside him to the point where his stomach pushed against the fabric of his coat, his cock a weeping mess from Yuuri's attention, tendrils teasing him relentlessly. He'd swerved sharply, going for the next abandoned alleyway he could find for them while Yuuri started vibrating slowly, pushing Viktor further and further. Their shared emotional space was a mess of want and desire strong enough that it baffled Viktor, and then Yuuri had pinched his already-abused nipples again and moved inside Viktor, and the Russian felt himself teetering on the edge of orgasm.

 

And then the sly symbiote had slithered _inside_ (and Viktor felt that it deserved a special mention) _his cock_ , thin tendrils entering his slit and moving deeper in his most surreal experience yet. His knees had given way and he collapsed, heavily leaning against a convenient wall for support, shock written onto his face.

 

Yuuri cooed at him, praised him as some tendrils cupped his cheek, helped Viktor crawl deeper into the alleyway before they settled against the wall, Viktor too wound up to notice anything but _the tendril inside my cock, oh god._

 

Yuuri felt confused, suddenly insecure as his presence lessened under Viktor's clothes. **_Is… is this bad, Vitya? Should I stop? We don't feel hurt..._**

 

Viktor whimpered. "N-no, love, no- I'm surprised, _hah,_ you've never done something like this before."

 

The tendril in his cock curled in on itself and Viktor flinched, his legs falling open in a futile effort to lessen the alien feeling. His hand rubbed over the Yuuri-scarf. It pulsed under his fingers. **_You seemed interested the other day._** It was a mumble, and Viktor felt _bad_ for causing his symbiote feelings of doubt. He laughed, breathlessly, huddling closer to the wall when a shadow walked past him. "Well, love. This has to be the most exquisite sounding I've ever heard of."

 

Shy affection bloomed in his chest and seeped into his bones, and Viktor returned the feeling, nudging Yuuri to continue where he left. He did so with vigor, returning to his previous size inside Viktor, his mass vibrating and stretching, making the skater's toes curl and hands shake. The thin tendril inside his cock also continued exploring, slithering deeper and deeper. Viktor fumbled for his belt, unclasping it and opening his pants, freeing his weeping and aching cock from its prison. Yuuri encouraged it, winding around his underwear -- a thong, in true Nikiforov fashion -- dragging it down. Viktor was rock hard and mesmerized. He could --see and feel Yuuri's uneven exploration, the tendril thinning and widening at different Intervalls, and the skin on the underside of his cock was stretched thin.

 

**_Can I do more?_ **

 

It was a soft though, a caress, really, and Viktor could have said no, except he didn't want to, really. He sent a positive emotion back, letting Yuuri take control of him however he liked, and his symbiote didn't disappoint. He thickened inside Viktor's ass, pushing against his prostate relentlessly as he did so, and the tendril in his cock widened visibly, stretching Viktor as it kept invading him. Yuuri took control of Viktor's left hand and moved it to his cock, and they begun jerking him off two, three times before stopping, his thumb massaging the cockhead.

 

Viktor felt too many things at once, with too many points of pleasure, but Yuuri using his hand to roll his fingers over his still-impossibly-so-weeping cockhead had to be the most intense emotion he'd ever felt.

 

The Russian whimpered and arched his back, pushing himself away from the sensation, to no avail: the cold wall of the alleyway was behind him, and the voices of people around him. Yuuri kept abusing his puffy nipples, letting them brush against his shirt, and the strain in his lower abdomen grew greater the more he expanded inside.

 

Viktor's mind was an information overload of _more more want more ithurts sogood sogood farther louder stronger sogood love love lovelovelovelove_

 

He breathed a strained laugh. "L _lll_ love you too-- _nngh,_ very much."

 

Yuuri moved his hand (their hand?) again, thumbing more insistently at the slit, and Viktor felt his balls tightening. He would've loved to claw at them, except Yuuri had well and truly gotten control over Viktor's voluntary body movement, pinning him to the wall and ground.

 

**_Anybody could walk in on us, Vitya._ **

 

Viktor whimpered.

 

**_Anybody could, and they would see Viktor Nikiforov fucking himself senseless. The great Hero of the Nation, nothing more but a begging and writhing mess. Isn't that right?_ **

 

They scraped at the slit with their finger, cautiously dipping it inside, and Viktor was frozen, unable to do anything but _look_ as their middle finger slowly disappeared in his cock, straining the head, Yuuri's presence still keeping him from coming desperately. And then the finger was out again, and then back in, and Viktor found himself fingerfucking his cock while his other hand came up to to pinch his nipple, scratching against it as he felt his mind blanking out. His cock was pulsating and warm and wet around it, and it was _maddening._ Their finger disappeared into his cock for one last time, thrusting deeper than before, and Yuuri hit his prostate _again_ , and Viktor was gone. His climax hit them so suddenly that Yuuri withdrew completely from inside him, but Viktor had no presence of mind to remove his hand from milking his cock in desperation as he came and _kept coming,_ only letting it fall away when he was spent, his coat and pants and hand a mess.

 

He was blissed out, utterly and completely, and Yuuri was silent as well, only an overwhelming feeling of adoration and love settling in his bones. Viktor sent him _love_ back as well, but was too tired of anything else.

 

Yuuri's humor echoed in his heart. **_You were great, Vitya. I'm so proud of you._**

 

Viktor mewled tiredly, head lolling to the side. His mind was getting fizzy.

 

**_Rest for now, and let me take care of you._ **

 

Viktor nodded, a silent _always_ echoing through their link, and then the black scarf was bubbling over, expanding in mass and size, covering Viktor's form and enveloping him in the bestest of hugs, and Viktor let go.

 

Eros emerged in his place, the combination of Viktor-and-Yuuri, clad in black and silver and looking like neither and both of them at once. Eros was they, and they were Eros.

 

_"We'll get us home, Vitya."_

 

They left the alleyway behind.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

**EXTRA**

Their hero-ing around had started shortly after Europeans, when Yuuri squirmed away in Viktor's body with frustration and lethargy. The Russian knew that his symbiote couldn't survive off of chocolate and katsudon forever -- Yuuri had to periodically ingest some chemical that Viktor couldn't pronounce the name of that could be found in human brains. For that reason only, they'd patrol the nights for St. Petersburg's worst. Yuuri was as ashamed of needing to do so as Viktor was intrigued by it, and so he'd called the only person on this earth who could help them, probably.

 

Natasha Romanoff, runaway and hiding spy, raised one eyebrow at his explanation. "So you want me to believe that there's an alien parasite inside of you that needs high doses of phenyethylamine to survive? Vitya, that is the most absurd thing I have ever heard."

 

Viktor shrugged. His cousin always was rather wary about such things. Her hair -- previously red -- had turned into the same shade of platinum a his was, he noted, while Yuuri peeked out from his clothes and Natasha stared at him. It was some sort of genetical makeup that did it, and it ran in their family since generations. Viktor's had been russet, up until he turned six.

 

"Tasha, meet Yuuri, my symbiote and arguably better half. Love, meet Natalia Alianova Romanova, also known as Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow."

 

Natasha stared, fascinated, as the alien bobbed his small head up and down.  ** _"Hello. Vitya's been talking about you."_**

 

She glanced back at Viktor. "I'm getting you the chemicals, but only if you follow one rule."

 

Viktor felt dread rising in his chest.

 

 


End file.
